


And That Was All

by Owlinker



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, What am I doing, angsty, sleepy!jim, this is really short ok
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-23
Updated: 2012-10-23
Packaged: 2017-11-16 22:20:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/544464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Owlinker/pseuds/Owlinker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So this was supposed to be fluffy buuuut oops, I angst'd.<br/>Well, maybe it's a little bit fluffy.</p>
<p>Just a little something for a friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And That Was All

Lights flicked by outside the window, whirring past as if in constant motion, obsessively chasing the darkness and fleeing the sun.  
Except that was ridiculous. Sebastian wasn't about to let himself entertain such fantastical, childish whims.

 

They were just lights.  
That was all.  
Completely stationary, unpersonified.

 

They were the ones moving, his employer, the cabbie, and himself. All three were quiet, and Sebastian knew the ride would only be brief. He'd have walked and saved the cab fare, but Jim had insisted on the taxi. Sebastian knew better than to argue with the dangerously brilliant man, the _consulting criminal_ , and obliged.

  
He could easily see now why Jim had wanted the cab, curled up as best he could be in the backseat of a taxi, legs propped up on the seat toward the door on his side, head resting up against Sebastian. It was nice, really, although Moran wasn't sure whether he meant having his boss interacting with him in an uncharacteristically gentle, mundane, and domestic way was nice, or just actually seeing the man sleep. Maybe it was both. James Moriarty had a bad tendency to neglect his own personal needs when working, and Sebastian was certain it would be the death of his boss, caused by the hallucinations associated with such an ungodly lack of sleep.

  
Sebastian hadn't realized he'd so easily draped an arm over the smaller man until the cabbie stopped in front of the building housing their shared flat and he'd found himself trying to untangle himself from his unconscious employer to pay the fare.

  
Then there was the issue of getting the sleeping Moriarty up the stairs to the flat. Sebastian figured he could always wake him. In fact, that's what he _should_ have done. It wasn't what he _did_ do, however, and Sebastian justified himself with not wanting to rob his boss of the much needed sleep.  
Carefully, so as not to wake him, Sebastian took Jim up in his arms to pull him from the cab, one arm under the man's knees and the other supporting his back and neck, holding him close. Jim didn't wake, just shifted a bit in his new position, curling into his carrier.

  
Why was he doing this? Carrying James Moriarty of all people, holding him close like this, possessively maybe? It was painful, really, daring to cross this line. Jim's heart was cold and goal-oriented; it would hardly benefit Sebastian to allow himself to cultivate any feelings that had sprouted for his boss. Jim wouldn't even consider them, he knew.

 

They were just king and servant.  
That was all.  
Completely business, unattached.


End file.
